


Horizons

by Builder



Series: Pantherverse [5]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF shuri, Fever, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kind of dark, M/M, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Sickfic, Vomiting, delerium - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 22:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14757398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: Bucky's ill in Wakanda, and all he wants is Steve.  But he also knows he's not ready to see him.T'Challa just wants to help him be well again.





	Horizons

**Author's Note:**

> A most amazing promtp from tumblr. find me @Builder051

“What is it?”  T’Challa says, as he hurries through the doorway.  “I came as soon as I received your message.”

Shuri turns to look at him.  She’s crouched at Barnes’s bedside, one hand embedded in his hair, the other holding a damp cloth.  “He is ill,” she says.  “He’s had a fever for two days, but said he didn’t want to come to my lab to be treated.  I was going to insist, but…”

She trails off as Barnes stirs.  His eyes remain closed, but his lips part and he murmurs, “…Steve…”

“He keeps asking for him,” Shuri whispers.

T’Challa’s breath leaves him in a long sigh.  “Last time we spoke, he wasn’t ready to call Captain Rogers…”  He recalls Barnes’s face during that conversation.  The worry at his lip, the downward cast of his eyes, and the emotion he’d had a hard time concealing.  Embarrassment.  Dedication.  Maybe a bit of pining.

“How high is his fever?” T’Challa asks, squatting beside his sister.

“Over 104 degrees.”  Shuri’s brow knits in concern.

Barnes stirs again, a deep gurgling sound coming up from his throat.  Shuri drops the cloth and slips her hand under his shoulders, pushing him to his side as he vomits water down the side of the mattress.

“And he’s dehydrated.”  T’Challa presses his palms together.  His own chest feels tight as he watches Barnes gasp for air while his eyes dart back and forth beneath his closed lids.

“…Steve…”

“Only me,” Shuri murmurs.  She dabs the cloth over Barnes’s lips.  “Shhh.”

T’Challa knows why Barnes doesn’t like the lab.  He doesn’t have to know exactly what the bad memories are to recognize them in the dark cloud that passes over the man’s face when they talk about Shuri and the possibility of future projects.

But he knows Shuri, too.  And as he watches her cool Barnes’s flushed cheeks, he decides she knows best.

“We’ll move him to the lab,” T’Challa says.  “Get him intravenous fluids.  Get him…anything.”

Shuri doesn’t look up, but she nods.  “And…Captain Rogers?  Will you contact him?”

T’Challa hesitates.  “I’m…not sure yet.”

Shuri works on Barnes slowly, keeping the equipment around him to a bare minimum.  She hides the IV stand behind his cot, and removes the needle from his arm long before he wakes up.

T’Challa watches from afar, pacing the hallway outside the lab, peering through the windows every time he sees Barnes twitch.  Shuri stays in a chair by his shoulder, and as far as T’Challa can tell, she never looks up.

By the time the light of dawn begins to filter through the clouds, Barnes is sitting up.  Shuri leaves him to sip on a glass of water just long enough to pull T’Challa out of the hall.

“Seargent Barnes,” T’Challa greets him.  “How are you feeling?”

“I…” Barnes starts, his voice weak and raspy.  “I’m ok.”  He looks down at the blankets in his lap.  It’s the overwhelming modesty creeping back.  The broken sense of self-worth he has yet to piece back together.

“Don’t worry,” T’Challa says gently.  “I’m not here to fuss.”  He takes a deep breath.  “I just wanted to ask you a question.”

Barnes blinks.  Then nods.

“When you were very ill yesterday,” T’Challa starts, “You were asking for…” He pauses, unsure if he should say it.  Barnes has to know, if only on a subconscious level.  He has to.

“Oh.”  Barnes drops his chin an inch toward his chest.  His hair flops into his eyes.  He pinches the bridge of his nose.  “I don’t…  I’m not…”

“Seargent Barnes, you do not have to be afraid,” T’Challa says earnestly.  “Not now.  And never here.”

“I just…” Barnes murmurs.  “I can’t.  Not yet.”  Then, even more quietly.  “I’m not ready.”  He drags his trembling fingers through his hair.

“Alright.”

“I want to go back.  To my host family.”

“Of course,” T’Challa says.  “Whatever you wish.”

Barnes nods minutely, and T’Challa catches his gaze.  “I promise you.  Whatever you wish.”

Barnes nods again.


End file.
